Beds
by imdeadsothere
Summary: Now that the war is over Harry treats himself by buying a nice big fluffy bed. Only it's too nice, too fluffy, and WAY too big. Ron has the perfect solution, but it'll change a lot more than just how Harry feels about his bed. SLASH. ONE-SHOT. LANGUAGE.


The bed was big.

Too big.

Harry sighed, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. Why did he have to go with the king-sized bed? He was so excited about it at first. He'd spent his whole life moving from one bad bed to another, from a bed small enough to fit in a cupboard, to an extra camp bed shoved in Ron's room. Now he finally had his own place (well, almost his own place, Ron shared it with him) and the first thing he did was buy himself a nice big luxurious bed because hey, the very least he deserved was a nice bed. Except now here he was in his massive bed, and it kinda sucked.

Harry rolled over onto his side again.

Here was to another sleepless night in his big, empty bed.

.oOo.

"You look like death," was the first thing Ron said to him in the morning. Harry just grumbled something under his breath making himself a large pot of pure black coffee. He took a sip. It was disgusting.

"Why do you drink that stuff?" Ron asked, sipping on a cup of tea that Harry had to resist tearing from his hands and pouring it down his throat to rid himself of the taste of coffee, "I mean, you don't seem to be enjoying it."

Harry resisted slamming his coffee cup down. He set it down as carefully as he could and took a long deep breath. He was starting to feel better already. Coffee may taste disgusting, but it did wonders for his sleep deprived self. Though he wasn't entirely sure whether it was the caffeine that did it, or the disgusting taste shocking him into rejoining the land of the living. Really, it could go either way.

"So, how's your bed?" Ron asked. Just thinking about that damn thing made Harry's bad mood slink back.

"Too fucking big, too fucking empty," Harry grumbled and said nothing more. Instead he just poured himself another mug of disgustingly black coffee. He needed it.

.oOo.

Harry came home that night in a worse mood than he'd left. At the last minute he'd changed his mind from becoming an auror to becoming a healer, which meant a whole load of specialized schooling. It would be fine if Harry hadn't fallen asleep halfway through a big test and gotten only two questions right on the other half. Something about his bloodshot eyes told the head healer that something was up so instead of trying and failing to not fall asleep through the rest of his classes he was sent home with a sleep drought and told to come back in the morning and retake the test when he had a fresher mind.

Ron was already home from auror training. And for some reason Hermione was there too.

"Hello Harry!" Hermione said cheerfully, jumping up to give him a hug, which Harry only half returned. He didn't have the energy to lift up his arms.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, trying to blink the sleep away. He dropped his books on the floor before making his way over to the kitchen table where Ron was.

"How were classes?" Ron asked cheerfully. Harry just gave him a look. "Not good, eh? It's okay, I'm sure it'll be better tomorrow. All you need is a good night's sleep." Harry glared at him some more. Either Ron didn't get the message or he was just pretending not to. Harry got tired of holding his head up and let it fall to the table with a loud bang. Hermione jumped a little.

"Is everything alright Harry?" she asked.

"I don't think the bed's working for him," Ron said. Oh, so he _did_ get the message.

"You poor dear," Hermione said, sounding more and more like Molly by the second.

"He'll live," Ron said. Harry wanted to slap him. Fortunately, he was far too tired for that.

"By the way," Ron said, changing the subject, and making Harry change his mind about wanting to slap him, "how's Ginny?" Never mind, he still wanted to slap him.

"Fine," Hermione said tentatively, eyeing Harry to see if she should end it at that or go into more detail. Harry lifted his head off the table. Hermione took that as a sign to continue.

"She and her boyfriend are getting pretty serious," Hermione said, "apparently there are even talks of marriage."

Too far. Harry put his head back down.

"What ever happened between you two anyway?" Hermione suddenly asked.

"Nothing," Harry replied.

"No, something _must_ have happened," she insisted.

"No, nothing happened," Harry repeated, "that was the whole point was that nothing bloody happened we never got back together because every time I was with her we did nothing and I felt fucking nothing and nothing happened and I am too bloody tired to even have this fucking conversation I'm going to bed." Harry used whatever energy he had left to heave himself out of the chair and down the hallway to his room.

Except that his room only greeted him with the bed. Harry groaned, slumping against the wall and slowly sliding to the floor.

Voldemort was fucking gone weren't things supposed to start going right for him by now? Harry pulled his knees up against him, resting his head down on them. He just needed to close his eyes for a bit, he was stressed and the lack of sleep wasn't helping. Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, and somewhere along the way he even managed to fall asleep.

.oOo.

Harry woke up twisted awkwardly against the wall, aching in places that he didn't even know he could ache in but he'd be damned if that wasn't the best sleep he'd had in way too long. He groaned, shifting himself into a sitting position. The room was dark now, he presumed it was probably night. He checked the clock on his nightstand. Yep, nearing three. Harry pulled himself off the floor, kicking his shoes off he stumbled over to his big fat empty bed. Except that it wasn't empty. Instead Ron was curled up quite comfortably on the other side. Harry stood there for a second, staring at Ron's sleeping form not quite sure if he should climb in or if there was some unspoken rule about not climbing into bed with your sleeping best friend.

"Are you just going to stand there or what?"

"You're awake?" Harry said, slightly startled at Ron's voice.

Ron rolled over to face him.

"With the amount of noise you made waking up? Of course I'm awake." Ron replied.

"What are you doing in my bed anyway?"

Ron shrugged, "you said it was too empty, thought I'd help," he replied, rolling back over, "now get in, _some_ of us have places to be at obnoxious hours in the morning."

"I have places to be at obnoxious hours in the morning," Harry said.

"No you don't," Ron replied, "I called and told them you weren't feeling well and wouldn't be able to make it to classes tomorrow, now get in before I drag you in. And don't even think about waking up before noon."

Harry climbed in, and for the first time his bed felt neither too big nor too soft and certainly not too empty. Not even Ron's snoring bothered him, and for the first time in awhile he slowly sank into a good night's sleep on that godforsaken bed.

.oOo.

Harry would proudly recount later that he woke up at exactly 12:00, though Hermione, whom Ron had ordered to come in the morning, would say that he woke up at 11:59. It was an endless argument though and typically got neither of them anywhere. The point was, he got nine beautiful hours of sleep on his bed, plus the extra hours of sleep on the floor. He even passed up a cup of his disgusting coffee for a nice cup of tea. And he had breakfast. And he didn't feel like murdering everything within sight. He felt absolutely fan-fucking-tastic, like he could dance! He even told Hermione so.

She just sort of gaped at him as though her entire universe had turned on its head. Though he couldn't figure out what the big deal was. So he asked.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione replied, trying to pass it off, "I'm just thinking _something_ must have happened for you to be so happy."

"Well yeah," Harry replied, as oblivious as ever, "I got nine hours of sleep."

Hermione coughed politely into her hand, "you mean, nothing else happened? Just sleep? And just _sleep_ sleep, not like, you know, the _other_ sleep?"

Harry just stared at her. Hermione shook her head, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Never mind, clearly you have no idea what I'm talking about so therefore nothing must have happened, that's all fine and dandy anyway since it's all good here I think I'm just going to…"

"What do you mean by the _other_ sleep?" Harry asked, just as Hermione was gathering her jacket.

"Oh, nothing, of course, just, nothing," she waved her hand dismissively.

"Are you…" Harry trailed off for a second, he had a feeling he knew exactly where Hermione had been going but wasn't quite sure if he wanted to go down there as well, "do you mean, like… sex?" Harry finally spat out.

Hermione smiled sheepishly, "oh, it's nothing, I mean, I saw Ron go into your room just as I was leaving, and you were so cheerful this morning, I just thought that maybe there was something else going on?" She phrased it like a question, staring at him expectantly, Harry wasn't quite sure if she was hoping he would deny it or confirm it.

"Why would Ron and I have sex?"

"Well, you're both single, good looking blokes who can't hold a girlfriend to save their lives and currently live with each other, what am I supposed to think?"

"That we're two single, good looking blokes who can't hold a girlfriend to save our lives and currently live with each other and nothing more?" Hermione rolled her eyes a little.

"Really? Because I know I'm not the only one who thinks it's a little odd. I mean _god_ Harry, you're Harry Potter, you could have any pick of the girls yet you haven't even tried."

"I just… am waiting for the perfect one," Harry replied.

"Have you even slept with anyone lately?" Hermione asked. "And I mean sex here."

"No," Harry replied, "but I don't just wander around thrusting myself at girls, it needs to be special of course."

"If only more men were of the same opinion," Hermione sighed. "Fine, whatever, let's just forget I ever said anything. You and Ron are just good friends and that's that."

"Exactly, we're just good friends sharing an apartment to save money."

"As if you couldn't easily afford a place twice this size all to yourself."

"So what? I like the company, it's cozy here. And it doesn't matter if _I_ can afford the place or not, it's Ron who has to pay half. And you know how he hates feeling like he has to rely on other people's money."

"But Ron's only paying a quarter of what this place is worth," Hermione noted.

"How do you know that?" Harry shot back.

Hermione gave him a look. "I helped pick the place out, I _saw_ the price tag. No way in hell Ron could afford half that. At first I thought that maybe you'd bargained it down, and then Ron told me how much he's paying a month. Not to trash your bargaining skills but I don't think even _you_ could've talked your way into that much of a mark down."

"If you tell him I will have your head," Harry said.

"I'm not going to tell him," Hermione said, "but you should."

"I don't see why."

"Because honesty," Hermione replied, "you're the one that just said he hated relying on other people's money and isn't that pretty much what's happening here?"

"I'll tell him some other time," Harry said, trying to wave the topic away.

"If you say so," she said, throwing her hands up in defeat. "Anyway, you're doing quite well this morning so if you'll excuse me I think I'll head home." She picked up her purse and gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek before leaving, calling out "bye Harry!" just as she closed the door behind her.

.oOo.

Ron came home on time. Which was good because Ron was home and he generally liked the company even though lately he hadn't been showing it, but it was bad though because Ron being home on time meant that it was exactly a quarter past five which left exactly four hours and forty-two minutes since Hermione had left leaving Harry with four hours and forty-two minutes to mull over what she had said. And mulling was not good for him.

"Are you feeling better today?" Ron asked.

"I was," Harry replied, staring at him. Watching every little move he made as if somehow the way Ron put his coat on the coat hanger would reveal all the answers of the universe. It didn't, but he kept staring anyway.

"What happened?" Ron asked.

"Hermione," Harry replied. That seemed to be all that needed to be said, Ron understood.

"What'd she say?"

"Just some stuff," Harry said nonchalantly, "but I've been meaning to ask you since we're now both fully awake and all that why were you in my bed last night?"

"I told you," Ron replied, "you said it was too big and empty and I thought maybe if there was another person around it would be better and you really did look like death so I volunteered myself."

"That's all?"

"That's all. What were you thinking, that I'd secretly gotten the hots for my best friend and couldn't wait to climb into bed with him?"

"Something along those lines," Harry said.

"Did Hermione put you up to this?"

"Yeah."

"Thought so, she seems to be under the impression that we're both flamingly homosexual for each other. Because apparently homosexuality it the only response to two fully grown yet single men sharing an apartment together."

"Did you have a test today?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"You use bigger words after you've had a test."

Ron just sort of stared at him.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"What, it's true!" Harry replied, "every time you come home after something important you're talking with all these like big important words."

"And I bet I sound astoundingly important next to your like normal people talk or like whatever."

"I do not sound like that!" Harry argued.

Ron just gave him a look. Clearly he was not going to win this one.

"Either way, I'm just happy to see you're in a better mood. Oh, and don't forget to remind me to give you the check for this month's rent."

"Yeah, about that," Harry began.

"What about it?" Ron asked, looking up.

"Never mind actually, it's nothing," Harry said. "Tea?"

.oOo.

Harry hated being drunk. Yet somehow he kept winding up drunk anyway. It had started later that evening. Ron had quite recently discovered the magic of the telly and that soccer wasn't such a boring game after all and was quite happily watching Real Madrid v. Barca. Ron cheered loudly as Barca scored another goal, Harry frowned. Personally he preferred Real Madrid. But that was beside the point, Ron was watching the game and Harry was bored because his team was losing so he decided to go for a walk and get some air. He'd been wandering along and stumbled across a pub. It was one that he'd known was there but had never actually been in so he decided to go in and get himself a drink more just for something to do. But one drink turned into more than one drink and now here he was drunkenly babbling to the bartender about one thing or another. The bartender on the other hand just smiled and nodded and called him a cab.

The cab proved to be unnecessary because just then Ron burst in. He spotted Harry and practically pounced.

"Harry! There you are! You told me you were going for a walk but it's been nearly three hours and I got really worried so I came looking for you!" Harry was pretty sure he was going to lose all blood flow in his arms if Ron didn't let go.

"You're squishing me," Harry slurred.

"Sorry," Ron said and quickly let go, "are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little," Harry replied. He tried to stand up but stumbled, Ron caught him.

"You got him there?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah, I've got him," Ron said, "thanks."

"Take care of him, I think he's a bit drunker than you might think, he was just telling me about that time his friend got kidnaped by mermaids."

"Yeah, that would've been me," Ron mumbled, too quietly for the bartender to hear, and led Harry out of the bar.

Ron kept a firm arm around Harry's shoulders as he led him back home. Harry in turn clung to him, wrapping both his arms around Ron's waist trying to keep himself upright. Instead it just meant that when he fell he brought both of them down.

Somehow they made it back to the apartment where Ron quickly deposited a babbling Harry on the couch. The telly had been turned off. Harry grabbed the remote and turned it back on just as Ron came in, carrying two potions.

"C'mon now Harry, take these."

"Why?" Harry whined, turning to look at the concoctions. One was a slimy green, the other one looked like something he'd seen at Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday party. He made a face.

"Oh just take them," Ron sighed, sitting down next to Harry and thrusting the slimy green one at him. "This one will help get the alcohol out of your system."

"But it looks like vomit."

"It's better than the alternative, just take it before I force your mouth open."

"Fine," Harry grumbled, grabbing the glass and chugging it down. It tasted slimy and green. He didn't know what slimy or green even tasted like seeing as neither was really a taste. But if slimy and green were words to describe taste, that potion was what they would taste like. "Ew," he grumbled, staring down into the empty glass. The remnants of the potions slipping down the edge into a small slimy green pool at the bottom, "that was gross."

"Now this one," Ron said, taking the glass away from him and replacing it with the one filled with the other potion.

"What's this one supposed to do?"

"It's to help you sleep tonight."

"Why don't you just sleep with me?" Harry was too drunk to catch his own innuendo, and was rather confused when Ron started to blush a fierce shade of red.

"You don't mean that," Ron said. "Now take the potion."

"Yes I mean it, c'mon Ron, we could cuddle," he babbled, wrapping his arms around Ron's waist.

"Harry, please, just, let go and take the potion."

"No."

"Harry…"

"Still no."

"I'm afraid you've forced my hand," Ron sighed. He reached up, pinching Harry's nose. Harry's mouth dropped open instinctively and Ron quickly poured the potion in and then shut his mouth. Holding it closed a very angry and drunk Harry was forced to swallow.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry grumbled, sticking his tongue out. That one had tasted even worse than the last.

"It's for your own good," Ron replied. "Trust me, you'll thank me in the morning."

"But, I don't wanna go to sleep ye…" Harry was interrupted by a massive yawn, his eyelids fluttering. "Maybe I am a little tired," he mumbled.

"Yes you are," Ron replied, and then he leaned in and gave Harry a soft peck on the lips just as Harry closed his eyes.

_Hm_, Harry thought in his sleep addled mind just before he fell fast asleep, _that was kind of nice._

Ron sighed, looking down at the sleeping man in his arms. He wouldn't remember that kiss in the morning, and if he did, he would think it was just a dream. Ron slipped his arms under Harry's legs, moving the other one around his back, lifting him up bridal style and carrying him to bed.

.oOo.

Harry awoke with a searing headache. God, how much had he drank last night? He remembered walking into the bar, it got kind of blurry after that. Did Ron pick him up? Harry glanced around. He was in his bed, in his pajamas. Ron definitely picked him up, no way would he have done this drunk on his ass. Thank God for Ron, otherwise he probably would've been napping in a ditch. At least it wasn't as bad as that time he fell asleep in a bush and a police found him and stuck him in the drunk tank. Fortunately, the wizarding world never heard about that. And Ron had been there the next morning when they let Harry out. Not that Harry was a drunk or anything, he just had his moments.

He pushed himself up in bed, and looked around. There was a glass full of some purple liquid on his bedside and a note from Ron. Harry picked up the note.

_ Hope you slept well Harry, the potion's for the headache. And don't worry, the school still thinks you're out sick. See you after training! –Ron_

Harry grabbed the potion and chugged it down. He could feel his headache receding. Where would he be without Ron?

Harry climbed out of bed and quickly showered and got dressed before going to the kitchen and making himself some breakfast.

He then sat down on the couch, and turned on the telly. They were recapping yesterday's match. Which reminded him, he could've sworn there was something else important that happened last night. He tried to go through what he could remember, coming up blank.

He shook his head, sat back on the couch, and changed the channel.

.oOo.

Ron came home to find Harry fast asleep curled up on the couch. He smiled, and went to grab a blanket to throw over him, tucking him in.

He then went over to start making dinner. Soup sounded nice. Harry liked soup. But what soup? He dug around in the cabinets and fridge, eventually coming up with cabbage, carrots, and a tub of chickpea miso. He could do something with this.

.oOo.

Harry woke up to Ron's gentle shaking.

"What?" Harry grumbled, slowly opening his eyes.

"Made you some soup," Ron said. "Sit up, you need something in your system." Harry slowly pushed himself up, sleep still flowing through his system.

Ron placed a warm bowl of soup in his hands. Harry looked down at it. He saw carrots and cabbage.

"Wow, really overdid yourself this time," Harry said sarcastically, noting the over simplistic soup.

"Hey, you know I'm not the best cook, you should be thankful."

"I am, actually," Harry said softly. "Thank you, Ron."

"No problem," Ron said, serving himself a bowl and coming over to sit next to Harry on the couch.

They finished their soup in silence, watching the TV. It was one of those crime dramas. Harry loved them, Ron didn't understand them.

"Ron," Harry finally said, "what happened last night?"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"I mean, I know I went to the bar, got drunk, you came and found me and brought me home. And you probably made me swallow some disgusting potion. No, actually I'm pretty positive you made me swallow some disgusting potion. I can still taste it actually, it tastes like slime and green."

"Slime and green don't have a taste."

"They do now. And it's horrible. But… but I feel like I'm missing something."

"You about got it covered," Ron said casually. "After the potion put you to sleep, I carried you to bed and got you into your pajamas. That's all you're missing."

"No, there's something before that. I know there is. Something happened and it was really, really important," he insisted. "I just, I feel it."

"It's probably just the alcohol."

Harry sighed. "You're probably right." Harry turned back to the telly, Ron watching him carefully. Was it possible he remembered the small kiss Ron had given him just before he fell asleep? He had said it was 'really, really important'. Was that important enough? Probably not. If Harry thought anything was important, he doubted it would be a kiss from his best mate. He would probably think that was just weird. It was a bit, he supposed. Guys don't usually fall in love with their best mates. Then again, Harry wasn't any ordinary best mate. In all honesty, it was hard _not_ to fall in love with him.

Sometimes he wished Harry and Ginny had stuck together, at least then he wouldn't be plagued by this incessant hope of a small glimmer of a chance he might have with Harry. He knew he had no chance. And that was that. Eventually Harry was going to find some nice girl, fall in love, get married, and have lots of babies. After all, Harry was the hero of the wizarding world. And that's just what heroes did when all was said and done. Ron turned back to the telly, a sad expression having settled on his face. One Harry definitely noticed, but didn't say anything. Not yet.

.oOo.

The next morning Harry awoke bright and early. Ron had given him another sleeping potion last night, a lighter one that tasted better. The bed was still empty, but at least he slept. Harry rolled over and looked at the empty half of the bed. He liked it better when Ron was there. He rolled back over and out of bed, quickly getting dressed, grabbing a cup of coffee and a piece of toast and headed off to healer training. He'd had his break, back to reality.

He only did marginally better on the test. At least he was awake this time, but his thoughts kept distracting him. There was something about Ron and he was missing it entirely. Harry finished up his test and handed it to the healer, who quickly graded it right there, handing it back to Harry.

"Better," he noted. "Not your best though. Clearly there's something bothering you."

"What makes you say that? Maybe I just sort of suck at this."

"You most certainly do not suck at this, in all your previous tests you've gotten near perfect marks. The ones you were awake for, at least. I was considering moving you to the next level, but now, I'm not so sure."

"Wait, what? You wanted to move me to the next level?" Harry gasped. See, healer training had levels. Currently he was still in level one. The test level. That's where they just read books and took tests. All theory, no practice. Level two was the practice level. They didn't actually get to work on real people, yet. They got human analogues. Made up scenarios. It was a sort of real world test without the "real" part. Level three was the real world test. You were assigned to a healer, and had to work as their assistant. After that, it was graduation. Typically people spent at least two years at each level, but Harry had only been at level one for 14 months.

"Well, you have been doing remarkably well. Except, it appears we have a problem."

"What? What did I do?"

"You need to learn to keep your personal life outside of your work. It is very important that a healer never be distracted. Here, it just gets you a lower score on a test, but in the real world it could be the difference between life and death. I expect you to get yourself under control. Nonetheless, I will put you on an observation period. Should you prove successful, you will advance to the next level. But remember, Mr. Potter, you need to work on keeping your personal life separate from your work. I will be watching you."

"Yes sir, of course sir," Harry said, quickly bowing himself out. He didn't have any more classes for the day, and quickly made it back to the apartment, Ron was already home.

"Ron, Ron, guess what? I might make it to the next level!" Harry said excitedly.

"Whoa, slow down there, next level, what?"

"I mean, in my healer training. I'm being considered for advancement. I just have to successfully complete the one month observational period, and I'm good." Harry was practically jumping with joy.

"What was the observational period again?"

"Oh, before you can advance a level, the teachers from that level come to 'observe' you, and your work, and progress, and everything, and if they think you're ready you get to go to the next level."

"Well, congratulations!" Ron said, holding his arms out for a hug.

"Thank you!" Harry nearly squealed, jumping into Ron's arms and kissing him fiercely on the lips before pulling away and excitedly skipping around the room, leaving a stunned and frozen Ron standing there.

Meanwhile, Harry's brain still hadn't fully processed what he'd just done and he was still babbling on about his possible advancement. "If I do the observational period successfully, that means I'll have advanced in just 15 months! Fifteen months! Normally it takes two years, which is 24 months, not 15 months, but I might do it in 15 months, and oh I have to tell Hermione she's going to be so proud she'll probably even buy me a new homework planner! I'll probably need it, I need to really get down to business if I want to… I kissed you." The thought hit him like a rock and he stopped in his tracks, Ron turned his head to look at him. They both stood across the room, their bodies facing different directions yet still lined up with each other.

"You just noticed," Ron whispered. Harry turned his body to fully face him.

"I kissed you, why did I…" he stared at the space above Ron's head for a moment. "But you kissed me first. But when did you… oh I remember now. Just before I fell asleep. So you kissed me, that means… but then I kissed you, so that must mean…" Harry struggled to work through the logic aloud, Ron just stood there, fearing whatever conclusion Harry might come to. He could've just ruined everything. But then… Harry _had_ kissed him. That had to mean… no, he couldn't let himself get his hopes up.

"Ron?" Harry asked, "do you fancy me?"

"No," Ron said quietly, Harry looked confused for a moment. " I don't fancy you, I love you," Ron finished. Harry's eyes widened, his mouth taking the shape of a small o.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asked, taking a step closer.

"I was worried about how you'd react."

"So when you slept in my bed that one night?" Harry moved even closer.

"That was partially self-serving."

"I'm not entirely sure how I feel about you though," Harry said, closing the distance between them, their faces hovering only inches apart. "I mean, I'd never even thought about if before, but…"

"But what?"

Harry responded by kissing him again. It was rough, it was desperate (especially on Ron's part), and it was way too short. Harry was the one who pulled away.

"Wow," Harry breathed, "you are a _really_ good kisser." Ron smiled sheepishly.

"Was… was that okay?"

"More than okay," Harry replied, wrapping his arms around Ron's shoulders.

"So what does this mean?" Ron asked.

"I think it means that Hermione's stereotypical vision of two single men living together can live on, you get to kiss me whenever you want, and _I_ don't have to sleep in a big empty bed anymore."

"Works for me," Ron said, and leaned in for another kiss. Harry happily obliged.

And for those who were wondering, Harry successfully passed his observational period, making it to the next level. However he made up for the early advancement by spending an extra four months in level two. Harry did eventually tell Ron about the rent, and Ron was a little annoyed. However, Ron completed his initial auror training three weeks later moving on to the next step (for which they got better pay) and was able to pay an actual half of the rent later, anyway.

Hermione doesn't actually believe that all single men, near in age, who share an apartment together are gay for each other, she just believes that single men, near in age, who share an apartment together and are also Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are gay for each other. Really she's just the biggest Harry/Ron shipper on the planet. Go Hermione!


End file.
